So Yesterday
by IseultLaBelle
Summary: For Charley. Set immediately after Lemons: Chloe worries about her impending appointment, and the Godards meet at Ange's for consolation sushi.
1. Chapter 1

**So before you start this one, your challenge should you choose to accept it is to let me know in the reviews for this chapter why this story is called So Yesterday. All will be revealed in the next chapter- but no cheating! **

**This story is for the lovely Charley. She knows why :) **

**A massive thank you must go to Elleigator who came up with the concept for part I, and put up with me bombarding her with dialogue all week. **

**And finally, this story is NOT sponsored by Marks and Spencer. Although they do make amazing children section penguin onesies, which are totally acceptable to own in your twenties. **

**Part I**

"If I book something… will you come with me?"

She doubts her Mum, at first.

Why Chloe doubts her when she's never let her down before, she doesn't know, but she does.

Perhaps it's this.

Perhaps it's the whole mess of a situation she's found herself in, the fact that everyone else she's spoken to about it before her and Dom has tried to guide her towards a decision that isn't hers, a decision that _they_think she should be able to live with.

Perhaps it's because of Nicky, because of Cam, because of Phoebe, because of Essie and Isla and Dom and Lofty and William and… and him… of everyone around her convinced they have a right to choose that should belong to her and her alone, no one else, that she almost expects her mum to offer up her own opinion at the last possible moment.

That they'll have gone through it all so calmly, so… objectively, somehow, focus on her, what she wants, or what she doesn't know she wants but everything she's afraid of, only for her mum to come out with something that sends her into turmoil all over again, has her questioning the verdict that at last she's so certain she's reached.

"Yes." There's… surprise, almost, in her mum's voice as she responds, surprise that she even had to ask, that it wasn't a given, right from the start. "Yes."

How could she ever have doubted her?

She allows herself to be pulled into her mum's arms, relaxes, just for a moment, allows herself to believe that maybe, just maybe, there might be a light at the end of the tunnel, breathes in the scent of the Kingdom Scotland perfume she bought Ange for Christmas and the blueberry vape refill she wishes she'd ditch for nicotine patches.

"I'm so proud of you," her mum tells her softly. "I'm so, so proud of you. Always. So, we'll make you an appointment, okay? We'll sort it out first thing tomorrow. I promise. We need to make you a GP appointment, have it confirmed- I'm guessing you haven't done that? No? So we'll do that first thing tomorrow morning, and then we can get you booked into a clinic and…"

"Mum?"

She'd forgotten this part.

God, she's stupid.

She's been so caught up in whether she wants to keep it or get rid and who wants what, who's going to support which decision, trying to work out what she wants herself in between, Chloe realises now, that this part had completely slipped her mind.

She'd forgotten she'll need proper confirmation, more than just the plastic stick of doom and desperation and history repeating itself Nicky rescued from the bins in the Darwin staff toilets, before anyone will put her out of her misery.

"Hmm?" Her mum pulls away, scrutinises, as though she's looking for the answers in her expression, trying to work out where this is going.

"Will you…"

She doesn't know how to ask her.

She knows what _can't_happen next, what she cannot possibly allow to happen unless she wants to be spending Christmas back in the outpatient unit, but she doesn't know how to ask her.

"Will I?"

"Will you… will you do it? The… the scan. You know, to confirm it." She can't meet her mum's eyes, fixes her gaze firmly on the floor.

"Chloe…"

"Please, Mum?" Chloe whispers, voice trembling with desperation. "Please? Just this once? It's not… there's not going to be another time, is there, I'm going to take care of it, after this. It'll just be the once. I'll drag an ultrasound machine into your office, we can do it there. I can't let anyone else see, Mum, I can't…"

"Chloe," her mum sighs, shakes her head. "Chloe, sweetheart, I can't…"

"Yes, you can, Mum!" Chloe begs. "Please? I'd leave it, only I just… I'm scared if I leave it… I'm scared I'll just keep putting it off and off and then it'll be too late and I'll end up…"

A thousand different scenarios rush through her head.

Images, possibilities… him, his eyes staring back at her, both of them combined, their… their… and she can't do this, she can't, can't spend a lifetime trying to raise a constant reminder of… of… of how he pinned her down and held a knife to her and she knows it isn't its fault, knows it isn't him but she can't… she can't…

She can't do this.

She can't go through with this, has to get rid of it if she's going to keep her sanity.

And perhaps that makes her the most awful person, given how she was conceived, but she can't do it.

Chloe knows she can't.

She isn't as strong as her mum.

"No one else has to know," Chloe tries desperately. "No one has to know you did it, it can be off the record. You can just… get Dom to sign it off, or something. Or Nicky. Or Cam, just… anyone. I don't care. As long as you're the one who does the actual scan. Please, Mum…"

"Chloe. Chloe, listen." Her mum places her hands gently on her shoulders, steers her into her office, shuts the door firmly behind them. "I haven't done a dating scan since… since you were about seven, probably, I think obstetrics must have been my first placement out of med school. I don't have a clue what I'm doing, I won't…"

"It's not going to be difficult, though, Mum! Please? I just need you to confirm it so I can bypass the GP and go straight to book myself in with…"

"Yes, you do," Ange sighs. "Yes, you need someone who knows what they're doing with dating. Especially with that. I… you know what happened with you, what happened to me, when I was pregnant with you. I know you think it's from… from that…"

"Don't," Chloe pleads. "I know what you're going to say, Mum, and don't. Just don't."

She can't think about that.

She needs to cling to it.

That hope.

That hope that in a week or so it will all be over, that this… this… parasite… will be gone, and she'll be able to move on with her life, free of him forever…

What if she can't?

What if she can't, what if it's too late…

"Chloe, come on. Come and sit down, sweetheart. Alright? Come and sit here. It's alright. You need to be absolutely certain." Gentle hands guide her over onto the sofa, grip her shoulder, let go, cup her chin, tilts her head. "Chloe. Chloe, look at me."

"I don't want to," Chloe whispers. "I don't want to hear it, I don't…"

"I know," her mum tells her simply, though her voice is breaking. "I know. But you need to. You need to be absolutely certain that termination is an option before you set your heart on it. Okay? I know you think it happened that day. I know that, and it's not that I don't trust you to… to, you know. But I… You need to be sure. When I was…" She sighs, shakes her head. "You know all this. I made it to twenty-five weeks with Dom, before I knew. I managed thirty-one with you, and that was _after_having Dom, god knows I should have been familiar with the signs by the time I was pregnant with you, and I still missed it. We… I'm not telling you that to send you into a panic, Chloe…"

"It feels like you are!" Chloe protests. "It feels like you are, Mum, it feels like you're trying to…"

"Chloe. Chloe, calm. I'm not trying to upset you," her mum sighs. "I would never do that. I hate seeing you like this. You're my daughter, and I…"

"But that means I'm his, too," Chloe whispers. "That means I'm not just yours, I'm your ra…"

"No. No, Chloe, no." There's anger in her mum's eyes now, pure anger and fury, explosive, and yet Chloe knows her well enough to know that it isn't directed at her. "I never, ever want to hear you call yourself that again, okay? You promise? You're nothing to do with him, Chloe. I used a donor. Alright? To all intents and purposes, I used a…"

"You didn't, though, Mum."

"But that's how I want you to look at it," her mum insists. "That's how I see it. How I've always seen it. That man was not your dad, sweetheart. Not once have I ever looked at you and thought of him. Okay? He's not your dad. You've got absolutely nothing to do with him."

"I look like him, though," Chloe states shakily.

It isn't a question.

"What makes you think that?"

"I do though, don't I? Because… you and Nana are like carbon copies of each other, and I don't look anything like the photos you've shown me of Granddad, either. But you and Dom look so…"

"You look like _you_," her mum tells her simply. "You look like you, you're _my_daughter. Nothing about you reminds me of him. Okay? You're not… you're innocent, of everything that was done to me, I don't ever want you to think you have to answer for… for that. You don't deserve this, Chloe. You've done nothing wrong, sweetheart, and I hate that you have to go through this, too. I'm not trying to upset you," she sighs again. "The last thing I'd ever want to do is upset you. But you need to have a proper dating scan, as soon as possible. With someone who knows what they're doing. Just so it's certain that… you know. That you haven't taken after me with the whole not realising you're pregnant until stupidly late thing. I'm sure you haven't," she soothes. "There's nothing of you, for a start. And you're… look, I was young and stupid, when I had Dom, I didn't think it could happen to me, I was… I was in denial, I think. And with you… you've coped with everything that's happened to you far better than I ever could have. I _didn't_cope, after it happened to me. I missed all the signs with you because I was such a mess, but you've been amazing. I couldn't be prouder of you. I really couldn't. But we need to be sure, Chloe. We need to be sure a termination is an option, we need to know how urgently you'll need to be booked in…"

"But what if it isn't, Mum?" Her heart is racing now, breath catching in her throat and she can feel herself hurtling further and further into panic attack territory, knows she needs to try to talk herself out of it but whenever she allows herself to consider that alternative outcome, to imagine herself, as… with… she can't…

"And if it isn't an option, then we'll deal with it," her mum insists. "Alright? We'll deal with it, Chloe. I promise. Together. Come here." She pulls her into her arms now, warm, safe, calming. "It's going to be fine, Chloe. There are options. There are always options. And it might not be the option you would have picked as your first choice, but whatever happens, there are options. You don't have to go through with being a parent if you don't want to. That's fine. Look, we could go and have a quiet word with Obstetrics now, if you want?" Ange suggests gently. "Would that put your mind at rest? We don't have to wait until tomorrow to phone your GP if you don't want to- is that why you want me to do it? To get it over with now? I'll take you up to Obstetrics, sweetheart, we can…"

"You don't understand, Mum," Chloe whispers. "You don't understand, you don't…"

"Alright. Then help me to. Talk to me?"

She doesn't know how to tell her.

She's had this conversation with her mum too many times to count, over the last fifteen years, and still it never gets any easier.

It's the working out where to begin that she finds so hopelessly difficult.

She can't bear the look of pain she knows she'll see in her mum's eyes when she tells her why she's so desperate for her to do her dating scan herself, exactly what she's so afraid of.

It used to be disappointment that she feared, when she was a teenager.

She used to be so afraid that she'd tell her mum and see nothing but disappointment in her expression, that she'd know, despite everything she tried to tell her to reassure her, that her mum felt so let down by her, wondered why she couldn't just pull herself together, couldn't be more like her, stronger, couldn't just… just _cope_, couldn't be normal…

Chloe understands now, of course.

She knows it isn't disappointment that she's so afraid of seeing, knows now she's older, been through this cycle so many times that her mum will never be disappointed in her, not for that.

It's the pain she's so afraid of, now.

Chloe knows only too well the pain she'll cause her mum when finally manages to force the words out, and she just can't bear that she's about to put her through it all over again.

"I…" She can't bring herself to meet her mum's eyes as she tells her, gaze fixed firmly on the floor, clings onto her hand instead. "I… I've been… just since... I've known… well, since I suspected, really, but…"

"Chloe? Chloe, tell me honestly, please. Does this have anything to do with…" her mum trails off, squeezes her hand back. "Only… you were a bit… defensive, when you said you were going to get changed in the toilets…"

"How do you know I wasn't just worried you'd work it out before I told you if I changed in here?"

"Oh, come off it. No one looking at you would guess you were pregnant, don't be so ridiculous. So is it… is it pen, or…"

"No."

"Okay. Okay, and you're worried it'll be mentioned at a dating scan…"

"I know it'll be mentioned at a dating scan, Mum, it's… it's _bad_… whoever does it will know exactly what it is, and they'll think I'm…"

"Do I need to take a look for you?" Her mum's arms are around her again now, protective, steadying. "Because I can go and get…"

"An ultrasound machine?" she asks hopefully.

Ange closes her eyes. "Some dressings and a pack of antibacterial wipes out the cupboard."

"I don't need that." Chloe shakes her head firmly, desperate; because her mum isn't going to give in, she can already tell that she isn't, and panic is rising within her at record speed as the reality of the mess she's in now dawns upon her. "I'm already on top of that, it's fine, I just need you to…"

"Chloe…"

"Mum, come on, you can do it," Chloe begs. "We can drag an ultrasound in here- I'll drag an ultrasound in here, you don't even have to- and you can just say you're in a meeting, or something. Please. Please, Mum, I can't do it any other way. I don't mind you seeing, you already know what's under there, but nobody else. Not now. They'll talk. They'll… they'll take one look at what it is and where it is and, that… that I'm there because I'm… _pregnant_, and they'll jump to all sorts of conclusions, they'll…"

"Chloe, listen. You know they're going to want to do a scan at the clinic, too, before they go ahead with anything," her mum points out gently. "It's not as simple as I do the scan and that's that. Whoever looks after you at the clinic will still have to…"

"But I just need a couple of weeks," Chloe whispers faintly. "I just need to give it a couple of weeks, let everything heal, and then I can book an appointment to deal with it and no one will know, it'll just be old scars, they won't question it. But I can't let anyone else see when it's as bad as this, Mum, I _can't_, and like you said, I can't just leave it a couple of weeks to have the dating scan in case… I need to know for certain that I _have_a couple of weeks to let it all heal, I can't risk…"

"Chloe, lovely girl, I wouldn't have a clue what I was doing," her mum reminds her. "Not the faintest clue. Like I said, I haven't touched that kind of thing since Obstetrics, and I was as junior as it's possible to be, back then. You don't want me doing it. You need someone who can tell you for certain how far along you are, put your mind at rest, so you know what options you have. What if I call in a favour, hmm? Do you know Jenn, on Obstetrics? She won't say anything, I know she won't. She's working today. I could go upstairs now and speak to her, I'll explain everything, I promise she won't make a big deal out of it. She'll understand…"

"You don't know that though, Mum! What would you think? What would you think if you had a patient come in to confirm a pregnancy and when you examined her you found… you found… she'd…"

She doesn't mean for her voice to sound quite as fearful, on-the-edge, as it does.

"Chloe? Chloe, sweetheart, calm down. Come on." Her mum pulls her into her arms again, counts, methodical, controlled, battling against her breathing. "In for three? And hold, two three. And back out again for three. And in, two, three. Hold for me? And out for three. Good girl. I wouldn't judge," Ange insists. "I wouldn't ever judge in that situation- I know some doctors would, but I wouldn't. And I know Jenn wouldn't. I wouldn't even suggest her if I thought she might. I'll explain to her, okay? I'll make sure she reads your notes thoroughly beforehand, so she… she'll know, Chloe. I promise. She'll know this has been… something you've done… for a while, before she treats you, she won't jump to any conclusions. She'll be sympathetic. She'll get it done, and then you'll know where you stand, we can take it from there. And I'll be there the whole time. I promise, my sweet girl. I'll be right there with you. Through as much of it as you want me to be. Do you think that could work?"

"I suppose. But you'll… you'll… Mum, if…" Chloe shakes her head. "If she starts jumping to conclusions anyway, you'll…"

"I'll back you up," her mum promises. "Of course I will. But it won't come to that. Everything's going to be fine, Chloe. I promise. So we'll do that, then. Yeah? Shall I make a call to Jenn now, see if she can fit you in before the end of her shift?"

"Please?"

"Okay." Ange nods, pensive. "But will you promise me something in return?"

"What?"

"Two things, actually." Her mum hugs her tightly, strokes her hair. "You let me have a proper look at… is it just your abdomen?"

Chloe nods faintly.

"Alright. So you let me examine you- I'm not angry with you, Chloe, I promise. I could never be angry with you for this. I'm not going to make you talk about it if you don't want to, I just want to be sure you're alright, you don't need any treatment. Okay? I know you can do that for yourself, I know, just… think of it as a second opinion. Will you let me do that?"

"Okay. What's… the other…"

"You promise me you'll mention it at your next counselling session at the SARC." Her mum's voice is gentle, soothing, and yet firm, makes clear that there's no room for negotiation. "You've got another one next week, right? So promise me you'll mention it then? I don't want you to hurt yourself," Ange murmurs, voice beginning to break a little. "I love you. I love you so much, I never, ever want you to feel the only way you can cope is by… doing that. I hate the thought of you being that upset. I know…. I know it's a lot to deal with. I know it's going to take time, I know that. Believe me, I know. And I'm so proud of you. You're amazing, Chloe. You really are. But I… I don't want you to be carrying on as brilliantly as you are if you're only able to because you're hurting yourself," she tells her, heartfelt. "That isn't going to make you feel any better in the long-run, is it? Hey?"

She knows she's right.

Deep down, she knows her mum is right.

It just doesn't make it any easier.

"We've been here before, Mum," Chloe whispers. "We've been here so many times before, and I'm sorry…"

"You've got nothing to be sorry for, Chloe. Nothing. It got better before," her mum reminds her, reassuring, calm, lighthouse in the dark. "_You_got better before, because you're brave, and you're brilliant, and you're determined and you're so, so strong. You're going to get through this. We're going to deal with it all together, I promise. You're going to be just fine."

"Mum?"

"Hmm?"

"What do they…" Chloe stammers. "Everything I know about Obstetrics is pre-graduation… will they just…"

"Well, I'm not exactly an Obstetrics expert, either. Or an expert from the patient's perspective, either, ironically. But you know that. Jenn will talk you through it all, okay? But it will just be the basics, at this stage. She'll just need to confirm the pregnancy, be sure there aren't any complications- I mean, you can tell her what you want to do, of course, so it'll be a little different. She'll just need to make sure you're alright, too."

"Will I have to look? You know. At the…"

"Not if you don't want to," Ange promises. "This is about you, sweetheart. No one else. No one's going to make you do anything you don't want to."


	2. Chapter 2

**Lizzie McGuire was a Disney Channel show starring Hilary Duff that aired in the early 2000s. So Yesterday was one of Hilary's solo releases- she's not the best singer in the world, but it was proper 2000s cheesy pop and it was at all the school discos circa 2004. Dom would have been a huge fan. And the lyrics are PERFECT for where Dom and Chloe are in their lives by the end of Lemons, so I've stuck them on the end for you. You should totally give it a listen if you're younger and cooler than I am and you don't know it. **

**Part II**

"Chloe? Chloe, sweetheart, are you still sleep?" Ange calls softly, gently pushes the living room door fully open. "Chloe?"

"I'm awake now." Chloe's voice is faint, shaky, and she sits cross-legged in the middle of the sofa, bolt upright, Ange's favourite tartan blanket wrapped around her penguin onesie.

"You okay?" she worries, crosses the room to sit beside her because there's something about the look in her eyes, something about how panicked and strangely calm she seems to look all at once that unnerves her, convinces her at once there's something wrong. "Chloe?"

"Appointment's booked," says Chloe simply. "Tuesday at ten. You're off on Tuesday, right?"

She nods. "Yes. Yes, I'm off on Tuesday. Do you want me to come?"

"Please?"

"Sweetheart, you don't even have to ask." She pulls her into her side, hugs her tightly- and she's calm, Ange realises now with relief, calm, breathing slowed, controlled, relaxes into her embrace as though the burden she's been carrying around with her for the last god only knows however long has finally lifted, as though now she's made a decision, taken control of the situation, as though she can breathe again.

"I'm here to support you," she reminds her daughter gently. "Whatever you need. You don't have to ask, Chloe, you just tell me what you need me to do. If you want me there, that's fine. I'll be there. I'd have just phoned in sick if I was supposed to be in work. Okay? You're my priority."

"I haven't…" Chloe pulls her knees up to her chest, shrugs awkwardly, hesitant. "I haven't… I didn't want to assume… I haven't even asked you how you feel about… about choosing to…"

"Chloe. Chloe, look at me." She waits for Chloe to meet her eyes, determined to get through to her. "Listen. All I want is for you to be happy. Okay? I want you to be able to make the right decision for you, I would never want you to be forced into anything you don't want. You have the right to choose, alright? It's your choice. If this is what you want, then I'm one hundred percent behind it. Women didn't spend decades fighting for the right to choose for you to worry about what everyone else wants now. I want to support you, so you tell me what you want to do and I'll be there. It's as simple as that."

"Thank you."

"You don't have to thank me, sweetheart. I'm your mum. That's what I'm here for. If that's your decision, then I'm completely behind you. Always. So, I'll pick you up on Tuesday morning, okay? You don't want to drive, I'll pick you up. And I'll tell Sacha I need the rest of the week off, too, just in case…"

"Mum…"

"Chloe. If you don't need me, that's fine, but I'll feel much happier knowing I'm off work and I can take care of you if you need it. We'll take it one step at a time. Speaking of which. You don't have to stay down here and be sociable all night," she reminds Chloe firmly. "You look exhausted. You said… earlier, you said you'd known for a while…"

"Only a week, for definite," Chloe whispers. "But I… I kind of knew since I missed the first one. I don't know, I just… I felt different…"

"Well, you're doing an awful lot better than your mother, then. I wish you'd felt you could tell me sooner," Ange sighs. "I wish…"

Chloe shrugs. "I didn't want to upset you. I thought it might… I don't know. I didn't want it to bring back bad memories…"

"Nothing about you is a bad memory, my lovely girl. Nothing. You've been worrying about it all for weeks, then," Ange concludes with a sigh. "No wonder you look so shattered. So, I mean it. Okay? If you want to just take yourself upstairs and sleep, that's totally fine. You can have my bed. Are you staying over tonight?"

"I thought Dom and Carole are staying over?"

"Yep, they are. That way we can all drown our sorrows, can't we? And we've got all the prosecco from the wedding to work through, anyway."

"You guys have."

"You can have prosecco. If that's your decision made, and it's final, you can have as much prosecco as you want, Chloe."

"You haven't got enough beds though, Mum. If Carole and Dom stay over…"

"I have. Carole and Dom in the spare bedrooms, you come in with me. We can just have another throwback to my impoverished student days at Nana's, can't we? It's not like we didn't spend the other week doing that, anyway."

"Twelve," says Chloe quietly. "Twelve weeks ago, Mum."

How has it been twelve weeks? Ange wonders absentmindedly.

It feels as though it were both just yesterday and a lifetime ago all at once.

They both startle a little at the sound of the doorbell.

"That'll be Carole and Dom," Ange tells her quietly. "I'll go and let them in, okay? You stay here…"

"I'm not ill, Mum." Chloe follows her to the front door, pulls Ange's tartan blanket tighter around her shoulders.

"I know. I know, but you're upset, and you're exhausted, and that's totally understandable. So don't put yourself under any pressure. If you decide you just want to go and stick the telly on in my room, have some quiet time and get an early night, you do that." She turns the key in the front door, takes off the safety chain she doesn't remember putting across, opens the door. "That's not a problem. Hi Dom, Carole." She tries to force a smile, appear pleased to see them, welcoming- and she is pleased to see them, of course she is. But she's so drained after today, so weary of it all, that she's not entirely sure she succeeds. "Thanks for coming to us. We're a bit…" She reaches for Chloe's arm, watches her face carefully, on alert. "I'm not sure we're going to be the life and soul of the party tonight, but…"

"Oh, that doesn't matter. We're just glad of the company, aren't we, Dazzle?" Carole smiles brightly, equally forced as she kicks off her shoes inside the front door. "I've got enough prosecco to keep us going through New Year…"

"And we've brought some of the non-alcoholic stuff, too," Dom adds quietly, his eyes meeting Chloe's now, her babies finally getting along with each other again and it's the sweetest thing in the world. "We weren't sure… you know, what the situation was, so we thought…"

"I'm having the prosecco," says Chloe, and there's a slight tremor to her voice, just slight, but at the same time she sounds calm, at peace, mind made up. "I've… I've made an appointment for next week. But thank you, it was really sweet of you to think of…"

She's cut off by Dom dropping the takeaway bags he's carrying to the floor, pulling her into a tight hug, doesn't even hesitate.

"Are you alright?" he whispers.

"It's the right decision," Chloe whispers back, stands on tiptoes, arms around her brother's neck. "Are _you_alright?"

Dom shrugs, rubs her back.

"It's the right decision," he repeats simply. "Well… it doesn't really feel like it, right now. But I think it's the right decision. I think it _will _be the right decision, anyway. But… you're sure, right? You're at peace with it?"

Chloe nods silently.

"Okay. Okay. I'm glad. I'm here, alright? If you need anything."

"Snap."

"Come on," says Carole quietly to Ange, seems to understand that they need a moment, just the two of them. "Shall we take all this through to the kitchen?"

"Sure," she nods, bends to retrieve Dom's abandoned takeaway bags. "Thanks so much for bringing this over, Carole. The kitchen's just through here…"

"That's an amazing onesie," Dom comments. "Is it a…"

"It's a penguin. Be careful," Ange can hear Chloe warn as she leaves them behind, leads Carole into the kitchen. "Mum got me this, if she thinks you like it she'll be getting you one, too. I feel so underdressed now, though, you look great…"

"Nah, I'll put my pyjamas on in a minute, you totally won't then. And anyway. You looked great too, at… you know. The vow renewal of the century."

"Don't tell her that, Dom, you'll only encourage her! Do you want to know where she got that outfit?" Ange calls through from the kitchen, busy sorting out plates and cutlery. "My mum. Who wore it to my christening. In 1973."

"It's sustainable fashion, Mum! Wearing your nana's vintage cast-offs is the future!"

"No way, seriously? Nana… Peigi, right? Nana Peigi had amazing taste back in 1973, I like her already. For a seventies christening, though…"

"Had my mum had her way, there wouldn't have been a christening!" Ange shouts back. "I think she boycotted the dresses in defiance of the Catholic establishment."

"Not religious, then?"

"God, no. That was all your granddad." She lifts the plastic containers out of the takeaway bag, suddenly realises what they are. "Carole, you're amazing…"

"Oh, don't thank me," Carole brushes her aside. "I suggested the nice Indian around the corner from the hospital, but Dom insisted, he seemed to think."

"No, you both did perfect," Ange assures her. "Chloe! Chloe, they've brought you sushi!"

"Have they actually?" Chloe and Dom appear in the kitchen doorway, huddled together, Dom's hands on Chloe's shoulders.

"We haven't got you anything with raw fish," Dom covers quickly. "Just because… you know. We weren't sure, we didn't want to wave something in front of you that you couldn't eat. And you know I don't have a clue what I'm doing with sushi, so we just picked a random selection and…"

"Dom. It's sushi. You can't go wrong with sushi. Thank you."

Dom grimaces. "Well, that's a matter of opinion, but I'm glad you're happy. Don't worry, Ange, we went to Yo Sushi for a reason. The rest of us have got chips and chicken katsu burgers."

"I haven't!" Carole protests. "I'm taking Chloe's recommendation, I'm having the sushi. You're going to have to show me how to use the chopsticks though, Chloe."

"Sure." Chloe smiles at her shyly- and as awful as it sounds, it's only in that moment that Ange realises her daughter barely knows Carole, can probably count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she's had an actual, proper conversation with her. "Sure… I can do that."

They have an awful lot of blending to do.

Is that even what happens in this situation? Ange isn't sure.

Is there even a set 'thing' that happens in this situation? Do they all grow closer to one another, spend time together as one family, Dom's family, is Chloe supposed to become comfortable around Carole in the same way she has? Or is that always going to be different?

Ange doesn't know.

What she does know, however, is that her babies are finally learning to love each other again.

Maybe all this had to happen, in a strange sort of way, she considers over her chicken katsu burger- and Dom is right, it's in a different league to Chloe's awful sushi.

Maybe it all had to happen to bring Dom and Chloe back together.

They sit curled up together on the sofa now, Chloe's head resting against Dom's shoulder, Dom holding both their prosecco glasses, and they look… comfortable with each other, now, Ange realises, wave of relief washing over her at last.

A few months ago, she couldn't have imagined this.

She thought they were going to remain slightly awkward and jealous and mildly passive-aggressive around each other forever, but now, it's as though nothing ever changed between them at all.

"More sushi?" Dom offers. "Chlo? There's some of those ones that look like dragon tails left…"

"Dragon tails?" Chloe laughs sleepily, stirs.

"You know. The ones that look like dragon tails."

"Ebi nigiri."

"Come again?"

"Ebi nigiri. That's what it's called in Japanese. Crayfish tails on rice."

"What are you, fluent in Japanese and a karate master?"

"Īe. Shikashi, nihongo no hyōjun shiken de A gurēdo o shutoku shimashita."

"Is there anything you can't do?"

"Oh, plenty. Definitely not a karate master. Or… you know. I wouldn't be in this situation now, would I? And Mum wouldn't be getting me self-defence classes for Christmas. But I did do Japanese for standards. Mum wouldn't let me do Russian."

"You're not making any sense."

"Oh, I know, nor did she."

"She had a choice between Russian and Japanese," Ange explains, on dangerous ground, fights to keep her voice as casual as she can, glances between Carole and her children. "She was in the extension language set, French and Gaelic wasn't enough to keep her occupied, and her teacher wanted to put her in for her Gaelic standard early as it was. And I did _not _say you couldn't do Russian. I… I merely pointed out that Japanese was probably going to be the more useful option, plus two alphabets to get your head around and the Chinese character things. You always did like a challenge."

"Nope, not that. Although none of that exactly surprises me. But what the hell is standard? Standard what?"

"Like a Scottish GCSE."

"Glad we've sorted that one out. Dragon tail?"

"No thank you." Chloe shuffles awkwardly, pulls at her onesie. "Carole, you have them."

"Oh… no, I'm alright, love. You save them for your lunch tomorrow." Carole reaches for the remains of Ange's chips gratefully.

"Prosecco, then?" Dom holds out the bottle. "You can have the last of…"

Chloe shakes her head, rearranging the fabric around her abdomen again. "I'm okay, thanks."

"Are you alright?" Ange worries. "Chloe?"

"I'm fine."

"Only you look like you…" she sighs, because it's painfully clear from the stony look on Chloe's face that this isn't going to end well. "You're not in any…"

"I'm _fine_," Chloe snaps. "I'm fine, Mum. I'm going to use the bathroom." And with that, she storms off out the living room, pouting, thoroughly unimpressed.

"I'm going after her," Ange declares. "I'm just going to knock on the door and check she's alright, it might be…"

"She's fine, Ange," Dom tells her quietly. "She's fine. She's just self-conscious, I think she just needs a minute. Leave it for now."

"How do you…"

Dom sighs. "She'll kill me."

"So there is something? She's told you?"

"Not exactly. Just… I don't know. Call it brotherly intuition."

"Tell me."

"I don't know for definite, it's just a…"

"Tell me, Dom."

Dom closes his eyes, surrenders. "She's showing. Just a little bit, but I think she's… I don't know. A little freaked out, I guess. I noticed earlier, I didn't want to say anything, but… I don't know. The way she keeps pulling at her ridiculous penguin costume…"

"Hey, stop making fun of your sister and my brilliant taste in children's section onesies."

"Oh my god, is it actually?"

"Age 13-14 kids. £18, or two for £20. Total bargain. I would have got you one too if they came in adult sizes."

"What exactly are you implying?"

"That you might be a bit tall for the age 15-16 ones."

"Nice save. She'll be alright, Ange. I think she's just… it'll all be over this time next week, won't it? It was probably just the last thing she wanted, now she's made that decision. For it to be physically obvious."

"How did I miss it?" Ange whispers. "I should have realised; how did you see it and I didn't…"

"Because she didn't want us to realise," Dom says simply. "Why else do you think she's walking around in that penguin monstrosity you got her?"

"Oi! I'll have you know she wears that thing all the time, she loves it! I had to stop her wearing it out to the local café with Cam and Nicky a few weeks ago."

"Oh my god, you're both as embarrassing as each other. No, seriously, though. You can't beat yourself up for not noticing, Ange. You haven't had her giving you thirty years' worth of hugs in the space of one evening. She's like a leech. Or… no, I've got it. Penguin huddle."

"I'm so glad you two are getting on again."

"He always did want a little sister," Carole reminisces. "So much so that when I told him not to get his hopes up, he came up with an imaginary one instead."

"Did he actually?"

"Mum!" Dom protests. "Stop embarrassing me in front of my other mum!" He pauses, looks up at the doorway. "Hey, Chlo. You feeling better?"

Chloe shrugs, shut down. "I'm fine. Are you… I'm sorry, I've hardly asked you how you're holding up…"

"Don't be so silly. You're alright. You've had a worse week of it than I have…"

"Your husband left you at the…"

"Hey, don't remind me! You've had it worse, Chlo."

"We're going to have to agree to disagree on that one."

"I can live with that. Right, come on." Dom springs up off the sofa, grabs Chloe's hand, searches through his phone with the other. "Ange, can we use your speakers?"

"Depends what you're going to play through them. I don't know if they can take much more of Kylie."

"Hey, there's nothing wrong with Kylie! So. As I didn't get my first dance at the renewal that shall not be named…."

"No, no, no, no, no…"

"Chloe!" Dom exclaims, mock hurt. "Please? Look, you can pick whatever you like from my childhood classics playlist."

"Oh my god, no."

"Backstreet Boys?"

"No!" Ange and Carole protest loudly in unison.

"S Club? Everyone loves S Club…"

"Not in the mood, Dom."

"You're so not my sister."

"Let me look, then!"

Dom sighs, tilts the screen. "Alright. Alright, but if you dare say a word about…"

"Ohhh, is that…"

"You want that one?"

"I can totally live with that one. You were a Lizzie McGuire fan too?"

"Oh, Lizzie McGuire!" Carole repeats. "I remember that one! You made me take you to see the film six times when it was on at the pictures, none of your friends would go with you…."

"Alright, Mum, they don't need to know all my embarrassing childhood anecdotes! I was a huge fan. Life-size cardboard cut-out in my bedroom, and everything. Come on then, Chlo. You can't beat Hilary in her prime." He offers out his hand, ballroom hold style, presses play.

"Are we seriously doing a first dance to Hilary Duff?" Chloe raises her eyebrows, but she takes Dom's hand anyway, allows him to guide her around Ange's living room.

"Of course we are. Remind me, what were Lizzie's best friends called?"

"Miranda and Gordo!" Ange tells him. "And you call yourself a huge fan?"

"Hey, like, fifteen years ago!"

"Look at them," Carole murmurs to Ange, shuffles over on the sofa as they watch Dom and Chloe together, dancing around the living room, laughing, singing along. "You'd never know they were raised apart for the best part of thirty years, would you?"

"No," Ange agrees quietly, heart melting a little. "No, you wouldn't."

"We haven't had much luck with guys, have we, Chlo?" remarks Dom absentmindedly, as _So Yesterday _fades away over Ange's speakers. "Maybe we should give girls a try instead."

_If it's over, let it go and _

_Come tomorrow, it will seem_

_So yesterday, so yesterday_

_I'm just a bird that's already flown away_

_Laugh it off, and let it go and_

_When you wake up, it will seem_

_So yesterday, so yesterday_

_Haven't you heard that I'm going to be okay?_

\- _Hilary Duff, So Yesterday (2003)_

**I hope you enjoyed! This was kind of like a practice run for my Hogmanay story I'm writing, so if you would like more Dom and Chloe, do let me know! Reviews are always appreciated. **

**-IseultLaBelle x **


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